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Chulla
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Posts posted by Chulla
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#20. I know 'Dave the shave' Marriott. Like me, a jazz and motorcycle enthusiast. I see him now and then.
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Now then Bubblewrap. Obscene-speaking - note the hyphen. Your way it's an obscene, speaking woman.
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Lou the Jew did woo and shoo Sue through a Kew queue. Too few rue the hullabaloo. The ado, on cue, drew two ewe to view a new hue of blue dew on Crewe zoo tattoo of Peru igloo, to renew or review a stew or brew of new glue, and undo a pew screw you knew a canoe crew did chew, spew, and poo-poo a clue that flew askew due to Pru who slew anew a taboo jackaroo.
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Agree Denshaw. When I was in Bulwell Wetherspoons yesterday, I heard an obscene-speaking woman talking to her friend in a loud voice. Didn't seem to mind that I was sitting across from her.
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Wish I could get two inches! - (I've always wanted to be 6 foot).
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#69. Yes, Bastard is an old English surname. Think those with it liked it to be pronounced B'stard.
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I didn't mention the green stone as I would have expected Melissa to know that, but I do wonder if the Irish ancestry, and the Emerald Isle description of that island was the reason for the middle name. That's my view, probably a jaded one!
Our maternal grandfather was named Evelyn Ethelbert. No wonder he preferred 'Ted'.
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Er, Melissa you are not going to like this. My Annandale's Concise English Dictionary says that the word Jade means, wait for it, 'an old mare, poor or worn-out horse; a mean or vile woman, a hussy'. Bet you wish you had been called Jane, now. lol
Moral. Look before you leap!
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No, no. Melissa would run into the back of you trying to read it. lol
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A couple of years ago we stayed at the Crowne Plaza hotel in Pensacola, Florida. This is a beautiful old railway station building now transformed into the lobby/reception area and restaurant - the rooms are a modern extension. The railway still runs right beside the hotel and serves the dock area of the town. The trains are a sight to be seen. I saw seven locos pulling a train at least a mile long. The trains often had low flat-beds each with two full-size containers; one on top of the other. The tracks pass right through the town necessitating the continuous use of the warning whistle/chime. Marvellous.
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Now that car tax discs are on the way out, maybe we could replace them with a Nottstalgia clinger. How to come up with a suitable design, though - perhaps a plain-looking N tilted to one side; there's an idea!
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Don't tell me, don't tell me!! You pee in and throw it over the driver in front who is causing the traffic jam.
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Further to my #14, another occasion when I experienced a marvellous railway moment. I was at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon on a beautiful bright blue-sky day. A steam train ran excursions from katyjayville the sixty-odd miles to the canyon, hauled by a Baldwin locomotive. The train arrives into the station via a bend; it not being seen until the final few hundred yards. At about a mile from the station the driver begins sounding the whistle, just like the ones we heard in the old films. He don't half give it some welly; giving short and long blasts all the way up to the station. The sound of the blasts echoing around the canyons is something every railway enthusiast should live long enough to hear. When it has disgorged the passengers and reversed for the return journey, it stands there, its Westinghouse gear panting away.
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#1585. A-ha. When the shilling expired and the lights went out, mam used to say 'Where was Moses when the lights went out' So that's where it came from. A couple of her other sayings.
'Get your elbows off the table!'
And if there was nothing left (of food or whatever) she would say 'Not a skerrick'. I never knew what a skerrick was. Perhaps one of the Basford sayings.
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A bit of Christmas cheer! Hope it works.
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#15 Cliff Ton. There could well be posts written by those miniscule Nottstalgians, if they were literate. If they went to Arnold County High School then I doubt it. But if they went to the William Crane Academy For Young Gentlemen then they would be. Laetitia Servire - ra!, ra!, ra!.
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In living memory there was a time when we did not know of what we call quantum mechanics - things smaller than the atom. Who is to say, therefore, that we will not eventually see things more tiny than the sub-atomic particles we now know. Here's something profound for the deep-thinking Nottstalgians to go to sleep on.
Imagine you have an incredibly powerful microscope, more powerful than today's electron microscopes. Imagine that you pointed it at a dark corner of your room, say, where the skirting-boards meet. You would see dust and dirt and much more than natural sight would reveal.
You look closer and see that the dust and dirt is composed of millions of atoms, and billions of other smaller particles. Look closer still and those particles are inhabited by millions of living beings. In your imagination you would compare this with the universe that you live in - planets and the Milky Way.
Imagine that in fact it is a universe, but only a miniscule part of a much greater universe; the one you live in. Imagine that just as you are a giant in comparison to the living beings visible through the microscope, our universe is just as miniscule to someone else, someone so large that to him our universe is the dust in the corner of his room.
Imagine once more, time is changed in scale, just as sizes are, and his few minutes in time are millions of years of ours. Frightening, isn't it, especially when he reaches for the vacuum cleaner, and we cease to exist.
Sleep tight.
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In my opinion most of the Broadmarsh shops should be demolished - just leave the area where BHS is. Everything else should be rebuilt as an area of narrow traffic-free streets, with the original entrance to Broad Marsh (where Dunns used to be) reinstated. The shops (no high-rise) should be built with traditional brick frontages and of traditional design, to give the area something of a bygone look. This would allow Drury Hill to be rebuilt as one of the in-roads.
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#115. Why are Manchester United talking Crystal Palace?
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#77. Better still, I'll bring some scab and matter pudding.
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Don't forget Arthur Askey in The Love Match (I think it was). He was an engine driver at Longsight depot, where some filming took place.
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My favourite railway film - Oh Mr Porter. Hasn't aged a day and still one of the greatest British comedy films. For those interested in such things, the tank engine in the film, named Gladstone, was built in 1899 by Hawthorn and Leslie, and had their construction number 242.
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#53& 52. It always was Chulla for me - some people used to mis-hear and call me Chilla. Incidentally, a correction; our family name should, by the laws of genealogy be Weet, not Newton. Newton was the other Victorian black sheep.
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When people hear my nickname 'Chulla' for the first time they invariably ask how it came about - it happened twice at one of the Nottstalgia meet-ups. It comes from schoolboy silliness back in 1953 and is a bit complicated . Having the surname Birch (it should be Newton, but we won't go there), I inevitably got the nickname 'Butch' in class. At that time there was a comic-strip cartoon character called Butch the Burglar. The two were put together by a lad named Brian Austin and for a little while I was 'Butch the burglar'. This was quickly shortened to Butchelar, (Butch the burglar) and then finally became the rear-end of the latter to give the phonetic Chullar (Butchelar). Some called me Chillar, others Chulla - I settled for the latter.
Daft I call it, but it has stuck. I have met people I have not seen in decades who immediately call me Chulla - and I rather like it. As for Brian Austin, we shared a sense of humour, and sadly he died many years ago. I subsequently learned that among the varied jobs he had, one was running a club in the row of shops near the Capitol cinema, opposite Berridge Road.
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summut serious
in Owt' Abaaht Nowt !
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Keep smiling, catfan. Just remember the joke I told you and Sue in Wetherspoon's last week - about the man in hospital who had had a leg amputated. The surgeon went to see him lying in his bed and told him 'I have some bad news and some good news' . The man said 'Tell me the bad news'. The surgeon said 'We have taken the wrong leg off'. 'Oh no', said the man, 'what's the good news'. 'The other leg is getting better', said the surgeon.